


The Bughead Drabble Library

by likeromeoandjuliet



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Bughead Drabble Challenge, Canon does not exist, F/M, Random Drabbles, There is no canon around here, my sweet children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:53:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 10,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23701135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeromeoandjuliet/pseuds/likeromeoandjuliet
Summary: A collection of the Drabbles written for the Bughead Drabble Challenge on tumblr and just general Drabble that I wrote on tumblr!  Fluff Fest, AU Fest and a whole lot of fun!
Relationships: Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 33
Kudos: 54





	1. Something Sweet/ Accidental Intrusion/ Paper in Your Pocket

**Something Sweet**

Betty is buried under two blankets on their couch. The heater’s broken. But that’s not even the biggest problem for Betty. Right now, the worst part is that she’s on the first day of her period and it feels like her uterus is falling apart.

“Baby, I want to help.”

“You can help by shutting up.” She snaps. “I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry. I’m craving a cupcake from Joe’s.” 

Jughead stands up, picks his jacket off the couch, kisses her lips and with a smile, says: “I’ll always brave the cold winter for you, Betts.”

**Accidental Intrusion**

It truly wasn’t supposed to happen in any way. It’s not as though she was planning on walking in on her roommate jerking off. _God the word is awful._

The words that fall from her lips were not supposed to happen either. He’s naked in his bed and she’s intruding on his…special time. “Do you need some help with that?”

With the streetlights outside, she can’t see much, but the ghost of a grin on his face.

“Only if I can help you too, Betts.”

For all the times she’s had wet dreams of him, this scenario had never happened.  
  


**The Paper in Your Pocket**

He took pride in the fact that he was a romantic. Ever since college, Jughead began writing notes to Betty every day. Just musings of nothingness, sometimes just random thoughts, that meant everything to her. 

_Drink water, my love  
  
_

_Your lips are the sweetest  
  
_

_Remember when we actually had a villain in our life that crawled into houses in a bunch of twigs?  
  
_

_I heard you sing in the shower  
  
_

_Archie actually fought a bear, what the fuck?  
  
_

_I’ll always come home to you._

_Will you marry me?  
  
_

He’s on one knee in their living room, grinning.

  
She says _yes._


	2. Midnight At Pop’s/Bubblegum/A Tempting Offer

Neither of them really want to say anything. Jughead can’t decide which is worst. Talking to her or sitting here at Pop’s, in silence with her eyes on him.

“No beanie.” She notes with a slight tremble in her voice, hands folding onto themselves.

His eyes jump at that. “Don’t do that.” She looks down, rubbing her palms against the material of her jeans. And he frowns. Was she back to doing that?

“Are you back for good?” She questions quietly.

“No.” He says because he’s never been good at lying to her. He’d like to promise her things,he knows he won’t because she doesn’t deserve that. “I’m here though.” The implication is there.  _ You can have me. I’m yours. Tonight. Always. Take me, Betts. _

“We should’ve fought harder for us.” She confesses and Jughead’s heart clenches. There’s a glimpse of the sixteen year old girl he climbed a window for and he wants to fall in love all over again. “People do long distance all the time. We could’ve made it.”

“Do we have to think about what could’ve been?” He questions softly.

“No.” She says, green eyes trained on him. “No, we don’t.”

Outside, he smokes a cigarette while she leans against the wall in his jacket. The neon light of the Pop’s sign makes her look like a character in a movie, lost in a trance of nostalgia and a love that never really went away.

He drives her home in his motorcycle, she doesn’t make any effort to give his jacket back. She climbs off from behind him, hair messy from the helmet.

“Wanna come up?”

_Always, Betts._


	3. Truth or Dare/Craving/A missed opportunity

Cheryl’s predisposition to wreak havoc among humanity was clearly understated. Jughead doesn’t know why in the world he had agreed to going to the Maple Queen’s party, there’s a million other things he could be doing than sitting on the corner of a couch playing the juvenile game of Truth or Dare. He can feel his identity slipping from him. 

The bottle lands on Betty Cooper, opposite Cheryl Blossom. Cheerleader. Blue and Gold editor-in-chief. Girl extraordinaire.

He was seriously out of place in this “exclusive” party.

“Truth or Dare, Betty dear?”

Betty’s lips turn into a smirk, as she gulps down her beer. “Dare.”

Cheryl looks wicked, Jughead feels sick at whatever shitshow is about to go down. “I dare you to make out with your crush. We both know he’s here.” The redheaded girl winks. 

That was…mild?, he thinks. There’s been a lot of worse fates before Betty’s. 

It takes him a second to register her standing up and walking in his direction. When she sits on his lap, grabs hold of his face and crashes her lips against his in a kiss that Jughead does not describe as chaste, he figures he’s dreaming. This is a proper kiss and he means proper. Betty is kissing him, passionately. There are people cheering around them, but he can’t hear anything, too busy making sure he doesn’t miss a thing. He wants to save this moment. 

When she pulls away, she’s grinning. “I think I’m craving Pop’s.” She murmurs and if he wasn’t so shocked, he’d respond. “Go on a date with me? Now?”

At Pop’s, they’re on the same side of the booth. “I thought you were going to kiss me last week.”

“I was.”   
  
“Thank god other opportunities will rise, Jughead Jones.”

“I won’t miss any other, I promise.”


	4. Ask Me Nicely/Naked For innocent Reasons/Detention

**Ask me nicely**

“Just kill me now.” Jughead groans as he walks into the house, soaking wet from the rain outside.

“Ask me nicely.” She grins, from the couch. He glares. “You know, if you hadn’t insisted on walking to the grocery store when I told you there was storm-“

“Yes, Yes. Why did you get the ‘I told you so’ trait from your mother?” He grumbles. “Have you left the couch all morning?”

“That part’s from you, old man.” The teenager grins.

“Juggie, you’re soaked!” Betty gasps, as she walks in the room. “You know-“

“I know, Betts.”

_ Like mother like daughter. _

** Naked For Innocent Reasons  **

When Jughead began taking an interest in photography, Betty hadn’t thought much of it other than being happy that he found a new passion. He was good at it. He had an eye for it. His pictures hung around the house, of her, of him, of their friends.

She’s exiting the bathroom when she hears the click of a camera. “Jug, I’m naked.”

“I know.” The way he’s looking at her is filled with adoration and she loves him. So much. “The bump. I haven’t taken pictures of the bump.” The words seem clogged in his throat, as he snaps a few more. She’s by the window, looking at their closet and her silhouette is accentuated by the light.

She smiles to herself. “I love you, Jug.”

“You have no idea.” 

** Detention **

“Detention?!”

“Not my fault they’re idiots!” She grumbles. “They’re shutting down the school paper! I was protesting peacefully!”

Betty and Jughead share a look before addressing the situation. “What did you do?”

“I chained myself to the heater inside.”

Jughead snorts out a laugh. “Oh kid.”

“What?” Mia asks, wondering why on earth both her parents were laughing. “They could’ve cut my hand off, they cut the zip ties with a knife!”

“Your dad thinks you’re too much like me, but you two are a carbon copy.” Betty smirks.

“Me?! Like Mr. I’m weird, I’m a weirdo?”

“You told her?!” 


	5. Distraction/ Dance With me/ Slip Up

“Oh, I’m so sorry!”

He watches Elizabeth as she bumps into Mr. Honey, to any outsider, just a clumsy accident. To him, he had seen her hand slip into his jacket pocket, effectively stealing his key card. 

Mr. Honey smiles as she apologizes profusely, claiming to be a little tipsy for her own food.  Little shit . She hadn’t touched her champagne glass all night. And as he watches her walk away, he quickly makes his way towards her as she’s crossing the dance floor.

“Dance with me.” He grabs her waist, bringing her to him.

Her face shows no surprise and he furrows his brows as she holds onto him. The key card in the middle of their hands.

“Forsythe.” She acknowledges, a small smirk crossing her features. “How am I not surprised?”

He twirls her, trapping the card in his hand. As he’s placing it in his pocket, she stops him, going down on him, one leg in the middle of his legs.

“This is familiar.” He grumbles as she comes up, card peeking out her cleavage. “When was it? Two years ago?”

“Three. Mexico.” She grins, as she breathes close to his lips. He twists her, pressing her back against his chest. “Raunchy.” She fights him as his hand hovers her chest, pulling away.

“This is my operation, Elizabeth.”

“And it’s also mine.” She’s presses flushed against him. She pushes him off and quickly walks away, car still secure in the cleavage of her dress. Heading for the ballroom exit, he follows her. “Don’t, Jones.” She murmurs, heading for the elevator.

“We’ve been planning this for months.” He grunts.

“Yes, well, your mistake was thinking we weren’t.” She says. He pushes her inside the elevator against the metal wall, trapping her between the wall and his body. “What?”

She can feel his warm breath on her face. “Is this about London?” He questions.

She rolls her eyes and she blows out a breath. “You shot me.”

“A minor slip up, considering you left me for dead. 20 men.”

“I knew you’d make it out.” She asserts.

He laughs bitterly. “Did you?”

“Who do you think sent Fangs?”

He groans. “We can’t keep doing this.” With a soft sigh, she grabs his face. “Don’t.” She pulls him closer to her. “Betty.” She holds him in place, and takes her earpiece out, turning it off. He lets her takes his out, for sure sending a panic to the control room somewhere in Vienna.

“Look at me. They’re not listening.” She caresses his cheek. “Let’s take the documents, sell them to whatever government we want and run.” She murmurs. “Anywhere.”

“Don’t do this again.”

“For real, this time.” She promises. “Anywhere. We could do it.” There’s a softness in her voice only he recognizes. When he looks away, she gulps down the lump in her throat. “You keep forgetting I’m your wife.”

“And you seem to forget I’m your husband.” He retaliates. She places a kiss to his neck, moving up to his lips. “Stop.”

She breathes out, still holding onto him. “Let’s start over. Take our money and leave. They wouldn’t know where we were. I’d make sure of it.”

“Until they do?” He whispers angrily. “They sent you. They knew I’d be here, so they sent you.”

“No, they didn’t! I signed on the mission because I saw your name on the file.” He pauses, looking into her green eyes. “I have a plane ready. You say go and we’ll go.”

He’s silent, his hands gripping her waist. “If you’re lying, I’m done, Betty.” He says. “This is what you do. You’re a fucking spy. You lie for a living. How can you prove to me that this is real?”

“Take the card.” She whispers. And he stares her down as he retrieves it, a shiver cursing through her as the card grazes her skin. “I don’t give a shit about this mission. You’re my mission.” As she says this, she lefts her hand up, showing him her ring. “Run away with me. Let’s leave all this shit behind.”

“You promise?” He questions. “For real?” 

“As real as the day I vowed to love you forever. I’ve haven’t broken that, have I?”


	6. Teach You a Lesson/Animal Magnetism/Clean Up

They’re safe. He knows they’re safe. But his nerves are on high, they always are but especially today. Getting chased down Purists wasn’t on his to do list.

“Jug.” He hears a hushed whisper behind them, as he’s doing a round of the place and when he turns the air is sucked out of his lungs. There’s blood on her stomach, sleeping through her shirt. “I’m sorry.” She chokes out as he catches her before she falls.

“No, no, baby, I’m gonna fix this.” He hushes, pushing the hair off her face. “You’re gonna be okay, Betts. I promise.” She touches his skin and it’s enough to calm her.

He lifts her shirt up and his hand hovers over her stomach and Betty gasps, as the light tingles of something in like tiny shocks on her skin are felt, Jughead’s eyes getting bluer. Not shining, just more vibrant. And as she watches him focus, her pain gradually grows smaller and smaller until it’s a small ache, slowly disappearing.

Her heart thuds in her chest. “You’re a magnetizer.” She breathes out as his eyes look up at her. “I thought there were none of you left.”

“You can absorb people’s powers, Cooper. You’re even rarer.”

“Not yours.”

“What?”

“I can’t absorb yours.” She smiles softly. “Magnetizers and Osmos clash.”

“Really?” He whispers and she nods, gulping at the way his eyes bore into hers. “I have to clean up the blood on your stomach.” She hums, leaning back, the exhaustion of the past few hours weighing heavily on her now that they were somewhat safe. He gets a wet rag and gently cleans her up, his fingers grazing her skin, causing a shiver to run through her.

A week. They’d been trying to get to a base for a week. She’d met him two weeks ago at a camp up north and the camp had been destroyed making them the sole survivors. Chased down by Purists, they’d managed to hide in a bunker in the middle of a forest. A base is supposed to be somewhere near, but they needed sleep.

“There. All patched up. I have an extra shirt.” He offers, rummaging through his backpack. “Here.”

“Thanks.” She whispers and takes her shirt off, forgetting that the world isn’t the same and there are still reservations. Jughead’s eyes widen slightly but he can’t seem to take his eyes off her. “What?”

“Sorry, I’ll turn around.” He murmurs.

“Don’t.” She whispers and he gulps down as she beckons him forward, hand gripping his and he sits down on the bed, in front of her, her bare skin proving to be the most wonderful distraction in the world. “Your eyes.” 

“My eyes?” He inquires, looking into hers.

She nods. “The Soulmate Bond. Your kind and my kind. There’s an old story. A prophesy of sorts. That when a Magnetizer and an Osmo meet and a Magnetizer heals an Osmo, their eyes will get bluer.”

“What are you saying?”

“That your eyes did. They turned into the most beautiful blue I’ve ever seen.” She murmurs. “And that the gods are teaching us a lesson in love after we stopped believing in it.”

“I don’t believe in the old gods.”

She smiles. “Believe in me. Tell me you didn’t feel this between us the moment you saw and I’ll let you try to outrun fate.”

“Fate? Did you absorb a Prophet somewhere along the way and forgot to drop it?” She laughs, shaking her head at this stubborn man. “We make our own fate, Betty Cooper.”

“Then make yours, Jughead Jones.” She whispers.

Thus, with a kiss, the prophesy is consummated. 


	7. Something Spicy/Something Stupid/Something Like Heaven

“I just hate the word, it’s so...poor, it’s-“

“Stupid?” He grins, teasingly.

“You are not helping.” She tells him pointedly.

“Sorry, Professor.” His eyes go back to his book, as he hears Betty grumble. He laughs to himself. For the life of him he’d never imagined Betty as a college Professor but when she’d taken the job and actually enjoyed it, he doesn’t know why he hadn’t seen it before. Had he taken advantage of showing up at her office, like a college student in need of passing the class? Yes but that was besides the point. “You know, stupid is not that bad of a word.”

Putting her pen down, she glances up at her husband. “There are hundred of more interesting words that mean the same. Hundreds, Jones.”

“Well,  Jones ,” He grins. “How about you leave your students’  _ vacuous _ choice of words for tomorrow and come join me on this couch. And we can order pizza and relax.”

She laughs softly. “As much as I’d like that, live out Yale glory days and all, our hormonal teenage daughter has specifically requested Indian food.” She tells him. “Something spicy, she said.”

“What is it with our girl and spices?”

Betty shrugs. “Not sure. But Ollie said he agrees so that’s a first on them agreeing on something.”

“How in the world did we get to having two teenage kids?” He muses and she grins, standing up and planting herself on his lap, students forgotten. “Are we old?” He questions, smirking.

“Old is a state of mind, my love.” She places her lips on his and he laughs, arms wrapped around his wife.

“Oh god! Is it safe to come out?!” Mia burst dramatically out of her room and then grins when they pulls apart. “I’m really happy you guys are still so stupidly in love with each other.” Teasing grin, just like her father, she plops down on the couch.

“Mia, please use some other word other than stupid.” Betty groans, leaning back into her husband who laughs.

Mia smirks. “Foolishly? Mindlessly? Stupid works better with love, mom!” She whines.

“I’ll never win.” Betty sighs.

And Jughead can only smile when Ollie comes out of his room to join them, the last little piece of their heaven laughing along with them.


	8. Vampires + Coffee Shop

He feels the air change around him the minute the bell sounds on the door. There’s a distinctive pull to look up and when he does, there she is. Who is she? He can’t look away for a second as she approaches the counter. Her damned eyes are perhaps the greenest he’d ever seen, pale skin, blonde hair, looking every bit like the Hitchcock blonde of his dreams.

“Can I help you?” He chokes out with a smile.

She smiles a smile with perfect teeth. Everything about her feels perfect, pristine, flawless as if Rodin himself had awoken Danaid from his sculpture to finish sculpting her body and here she was before him, in all her frozen perfection. “I’ll take a coffee to go, please.”

“Your name?” He questions, grabbing a cup.

“Betty Jones.” She says with a smile.

“Oh, cool, we have the same last name.” He grins, hand feeling shaky as he writes it down. “I’ll leave at B. Jones, how about that?”

“Sounds perfect.” There’s a fleeting moment, a passage in her stiff posture that he thinks her expression changes to one of deep sadness, one that he felt he knew, one he understands. For his whole life, he’s felt the same sadness he sees fleetingly, as if a whole part of him is always missing.

He can feel her eyes following his every move. Thankfully the shop isn’t too crowded, it is early after all, so he takes a bit of more time to make it, just so he can sneak a few extra glances at her while she looks at him. Why does it feel like he knows her? Like there’s an invisible thread hanging between them.

“Here you go. That’ll be $4.15, please.” He hands her the coffee and for a second their hands touch and he swears she’s so cold, it’s as if he’s an inch away from a block of ice and yet it isn’t cold outside. Brows furrowed, he gulps down as she hands him the money.

“Keep the change, Jughead.” She says before turning back and leaving him there with a sensation in his chest he swears he’s felt before.

She gets into a car out front and takes a few seconds to take off. But when she does, he notices the spilled coffee cup on the ground where the car was parked.

•

“You torture yourself, cousin.” Cheryl sighs, as she opens the window and takes the coffee cup, dropping it on the ground. “What good is it for?”

“I need to see him.”

“So what? Hide in his room, watch from his window. Why do we go over this every time?” The red shakes her head. “Every day, Elizabeth. You know he’ll forget you when the day is done. What good is it to watch him watch him die every lifetime?”

“I get to hear his voice, Cheryl. I’ll torture myself everyday for the rest of eternity if I have to.” Betty snaps, stepping on the gas. “I’m gonna break this goddamned curse and I’m gonna destroy Faustus.”

Cheryl shakes her head. “Why did you fall for a human, cousin? It’d be so much easier if he weren’t a mortal. At least you wouldn’t have to watch him die every few decades without having him.”

“Twice.”

“What?”

“I’ve only watched him die twice. The day we married and twenty years ago.”

“How long are you willing to go on like this? Watch him live life after life, cousin. Because you do have eternity. You understand? They’ll keep bringing back as the man you fell in love with. Every time.” Cheryl seems to soften a little as she stares at Betty, reaching for her hand.

“Until I break the curse.” The finality in her tone tells Cheryl she’s not willing to go on with the conversation. Taking the ring out of pocket, she places it on its rightful place on her fingers, and tries to ignore the pain she shouldn’t be able to feel in her frozen heart. 


	9. Celebrity + Meet Cute

It’s too cliche how they first meet. It involves a party at Cheryl Blossom’s house, a spilled beer and eyes meeting for the first time ever. He wishes he could say the rest is history, but they’d both been a little drunk and had both stumbled on their words as they introduced themselves.

His first thought is that she looks even more beautiful than in pictures and in any big screen. Maybe he does have a bit of a fan boy heart attack at seeing her breathtaking eyes up close, but he’ll never admit it even years later.

He’s new to the industry. A quick rise to fame on a Netflix show that had bought him the ticket in to the whole world of showbiz. With it, an unexpected newfound fame and contacts on his phone he swears he dreamed it all up. The moment he met her, at Cheryl Blossom’s house, is unreal enough. He had brushed shoulders with Leonardo DiCaprio and then he crashed into her, literally, forcefully, sending his beer to the ground and her champagne in his shirt.

“I am so sorry!” She gasps, gripping his shirt. “You’re all wet! Crap, I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay! I wasn’t looking at where I was going.” He laughs softly. “I should probably go fix this!”

“Oh, come with me! I can find you a shirt!” He doesn’t even have time to question anything as she drags him up the stairs, hand holding his. He’s a bit to dumbfounded to actually register anything that is happening. They enter a bedroom and she leads him to a walk in closet. “Oh!” She spins around to face him, grin on his face. “’m Betty, hi! You’re Jughead, right? Jughead Jones?”

He smiles softly, nodding. “That’s me.” He says. It’s only now that he’s noticed how quiet the room is. He hears music through the walls, somewhere downstairs an up and coming musician is giving it a go on the stage, there’s people talking loudly, but in it’s quiet where they are. “So, do you just drag everyone into bedrooms?” He questions with a grin.

“Shit! Your shirt!” She suddenly turns away from him again and starts rummaging through drawers. “Awful print...don’t know what this is and...Yes! Plain white t-shirt just like yours except of course it’s Armani!” Betty rolls her eyes as she takes the shirt out of the drawer and hands it to him.

“Is this okay? I mean won’t Cheryl notice?”

Betty shakes her head laughing. “Cheryl won’t care, trust me.” Honestly, he’ll trust anything if she stares at him like that for a little while longer. “Also, I should probably tell you, this was an ambush.”

His brows furrows. “I’m sorry?”

“I bumped into you on purpose, with no intention of ruining your shirt, obviously, but then I felt really guilty about that so here we are.” She shrugs as if she hadn’t just dropped a little bomb in his lap.

Dear god, he had a poster of her when he was twelve. His very own guilty pleasure. Her teenage detective show on goddamned Disney Channel. Her beautiful face had been his first crush on a girl and then she grew up and every time he saw her picture, moving on to bigger things, his heart still remembered his pre-teen crush.

Now here she was and most importantly, here he was. “I’m sorry?” He questions lamely.

“I was going to come up to you like a normal person would but I’m drunk and this option seemed more interesting.”

“What?”

“You look very James Dean-ish.”

He laughs softly. “That means what?”

“You’re hot.” She blurts out and then she winces. “I’m sorry, when I’m drunk, my filter slips off completely and I will forget this in the morning. But I saw your show!” She groans, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I’m trying to flirt with you!”

“Wow, you’re so good at that.” He tells her, his sarcasm slipping out with a smirk. “I thought you were going to kidnap me or something, Betty.”

“Would that be something you’d want?”

“What?” He laughs.

“I meant that figuratively. Do you want to get out of here?” She shrugs, looking at him with devilish grin on her face.

“Sure, Betty Cooper, what do you have in mind?” 


	10. Past-Present-Future

Being back in Riverdale feels freeing in a way. When they first left for Toledo, Jughead admits he felt like he was escaping. Escaping his father and a life that wasn’t at all what he wanted for his sister. Jellybean couldn’t grow up like he did, even at fourteen, he’d lived through things that he wouldn’t wish on anyone, things no one should ever have to deal with at such a young age. An alcoholic father who could get violent, whose loud voice was forever stuck in his mind.

His mother had packed up their things when FP was passed out on the couch, a bottle of whiskey empty on the floor. He remembers being woken up and ushered out the door and into the car. He remembers how quiet leaving was. It’s not as though he was expecting anything, it felt, though, calmer than he’d ever realized it could be. But Gladys, despite getting them out, was still Gladys. And Gladys was complicated. Nothing she did was really within the confinement of the law. Jughead realized that too soon. He didn’t want Jellybean to notice it, to be in the midst of it, but all of it was too late. He’d confronted the fact that he needed an out when he found out she’d been dealing drugs. He couldn’t possibly let Jellybean anywhere near that.

The call comes through and Jughead makes a split second decision based on a weak reassurance.

“I’m sober. I’ve been sober since you left. I go to meetings. I have an apartment. Come home.”

He doesn’t leave in the middle of the night. He sits Gladys down and tells her. What hurts the most is the understanding look on her face and how she lets them go without a fight. Somehow that’s worse than anything she could ever do.

Jellybean is fine with it. She hates Toledo.

FP picks them up at the station and he looks healthy. Jughead tries not to get his hopes up. Turns out he can.

“Jughead?”

The sweet voice that calls him out as he sits in a booth at Pop’s belongs to one Betty Cooper. His childhood crush. One third of the now dismembered three musketeers. The first friend he’d ever made.

“Hey, Betty.” He greets awkwardly.

“You’re here. You’re back.” She smiles her infamous smile and he feels himself under her spell in a second.

“Yeah, I...yeah.” He mumbles lamely, cursing himself the whole time.

“Come on, sit!” She gestures you the seat in front of her and he sits. “How are you? Are you coming to Riverdale High?”

He clears his throat, a little intimidated by having her full attention on him. “I am, yeah.”

Her eyes light up and she smiles. “That’s great, Jughead. That’s really great. How have you been?”

He shrugs. How do you phrase it? I left because of my drunk father but it turns out being out wasn’t as good because my mother sells drugs so now I’m back here to my alcoholic father because he’s sober?

“Good.” He decides to say. “How are you, Betty?”

Her smile seems to falter a tiny bit. “I’m great. Had that internship. It went great. I met Toni Morrison last summer.”

“Oh? Really? That’s great, Betty! I know how much you love her!” He smiles and Betty’s mood seems to shift as she launches into the story of how she met her favorite writer. Jughead is reminded why he pined after her for most of his childhood.

He tries to steer the conversation away from himself. It’s not as though he doesn’t want to tell her everything. He’s just not ready for all of that, things changed. They’re not kids anymore, they’re now in that weird phase where they used to be best friends but after this long, it’s not the same. He missed her but he’s embarrassed by his own life.

And then Betty’s phone rings. He hears the shrill of Alice Cooper’s voice on the other side of the line, notes how Betty’s demeanor changes as she tells him she needs to go home. She smiles at him one more time before leaving. And he saves that moment in the back of his mind.

•

“Prom is in a week, B! You have to get a date!” Veronica tells her best friend. They’re all sitting together during free period. It had been two days since he began attending Riverdale High.

Jughead is confused by Veronica’s whole being, if he’s honest. He doesn’t really understand why she wears pearls to school or heels or why she dresses like she’s some top notch CEO with an assistant following her around. Maybe it’s just his absolute inadequacy when in dealing with privileged people or maybe it’s just really that odd. But Betty loves her and Archie’s in love with her. So he doesn’t say anything. His sardonic humor might pop out at some point but he’ll save it for now.

“V, there’s still time.” Betty laughs. “And it’s fine if no one asks me, I’m totally fine with not having a date. 21st century independence and all that.”

Veronica rolls her eyes. “I refuse that idea for prom. A girl deserves a date.” The dark haired girl argues. And then the worst possible thing happens, Veronica snaps her head towards him with laser focus as he sits beside Betty, munching on his chips. “Jughead, why don’t you ask her out?”

He chokes on his chips, coughing miserably.

“Veronica! Stop that!” Betty’s eyes widen. And Jughead can’t help but feel his heart ache a little. Was the thought of going to prom with him that insane? “Jughead, it’s fine.”

The bell rings, he’s left with a bitter taste in his mouth.

•

Archie and Veronica are admittedly, from where he’s standing an annoying couple. They love each other alright but it’s the way in which they display it that kind of makes Jughead want to gag. Archie follows her around like a love sick puppy and the way Veronica calls him ‘Archiekins’ makes him want to bury himself six feet under. They’re apparently, as Veronica and Kevin had put it, Endgame. It’s all a very confusing event, especially considering the fact that Betty had a very obvious crush on Archie when he left.

Still, Betty sends him amused looks when his expressions can’t be hidden within Varchie’s vicinity, so he tries to hide it even less now that he’s noticed it makes her smile.

He walks her home everyday. And it’s easy to be back to being friends with her. It’s not like being friends with Archie. Him and Archie had grown apart a bit, different interests, and he will only say that to himself, but seriously different IQs (he loves his ginger friend but there’s no way he can lie about that). But being friends with Betty means real meaningful conversations, it means a hundred million topics as long as they keep going.

“Can I ask a question?” She looks at him, as they walk and nods. “When I left, you had a pretty obvious crush on Archie, so what happened there?”

Betty lets out a laugh. “I never had a crush on Archie.”

“You didn’t?” His eyes widen at this new bit of information.

“I mean when I was like seven, probably, but by the time you left, that was long gone.”

He’s truly flabbergasted at this new piece of information. “So, nothing on the romantic horizon?”

“Mmmh, I don’t think so.”

“How in the world has no one asked you out?” He blurts out incredulously.

Betty blushes. Had he made her blush? “Maybe I’m too boring for everyone. Next to girls like Cheryl and V, it’s easy to bypass me.” She brushes it off and he hates that.

“No fucking way.” He shakes his head, the way he says it coming out like he truly doesn’t believe anyone could ever find Betty Cooper boring. “Betty, you’re fucking incredible! You could never be boring. It’s you!”

“Jug...” She chuckles just as they stand in front of her house. She turns to face him. “You’re sweet, you know? Beneath all that broody exterior of yours.”

“Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain.” He jokes and she laughs, her beautiful face lighting up. His crush on her doubles up. “Whoever dates you, will be the luckiest guy in the world, Betty.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “For sure.”

•

It’s a day before prom when Veronica Lodge corners him, in the Blue and Gold, bursting through the door.

“Why haven’t you asked her out?” She asks pointedly and once again, he’s so confused by her. “Betty, Forsythe!”

“How the hell do you know my real name?”

“Archie, obviously, but that is besides the point. You need to ask Betty to prom.”

He scoffs. “Veronica, no offense, but why would I do that?”

“Because she can’t be our third wheel!”

“Why would she be your third wheel?”

“Because she doesn’t have a date. And also, you need to ask her, because she wants you to.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“She does. It’s very clear that she does.” Veronica tells him firmly.

“I’ve been back for a week.”

“Your point?” Veronica furrows her brows. “You know, between the pictures of you I saw from before and now. You had a glow up, Jones.” Again, complete utter confusion. “So it’s very clear that Betty is not only crushing on your brain, she’s also crushing on your physique. And she probably had a crush on you before, but I can’t get it out of her.”

He gulps, feeling like the wind was knocked off his lungs. “What?”

“And you are adorably pining after her. Probably have for a while, right?” She smirks. “Just ask her out, will you? End everyone’s suffering. The longing gaze on both your faces is painful.”

Turns out that he doesn’t have to ask her because Betty one ups him. He’s walking her home as always, he’s babbling on and on about a book he’s reading, she’s listening intently as usual, a smile on her face. When the conversation dies out, he feels her fingers softly brush against his, between them. He’s dreaming, he has to be dreaming. Betty doesn’t wait, she takes his hand, interlocking their fingers together. And holy shit, had Veronica been right?

“Betts.” He chokes out.

“Yeah?” The words seem stuck in his throat, unwilling to come out, so she stops them, turns towards him and smiles, taking care of it herself. Her hand is still gripping his so he’s sure it wasn’t a mistake. “Go to prom with me.”

“What?” He breathes out. “Betty, what?”

“Prom, Jug. I’m asking you to prom. I was waiting for you to ask me but I thought, screw it, might as well as you.”

“Are you serious?” He asks in disbelief. “Like, for real, not in a ‘let’s go as friend’ way?”

She pauses, smiling. “For real. So, is that a yes or do I have to suffer for longer?”

He laughs. “Yes, yes, it’s a yes.”

“Great. Pick me up at seven tomorrow.” She pecks his cheek and leaves him with a dumb grin on his face in the middle of the street.

What had just happened?

•

He picks her up, in the only suit he owns. She looks breathtaking. He’s pretty sure his heart might jump out of his chest when Alice waits with him in the living room. Alice is still as terrible as he remembers and he wonders how in the world Betty turned out the way she did. But Betty’s beautiful and she’s his date and when she climbs down the stairs, he’s sure he’ll remember the image forever.

“You look beautiful, Betts.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Juggie.”

She drives them to prom. He doesn’t have a car but he likes watching her do the most mundane things in the world, even driving so he doesn’t feel bad about it. Instead, he feels like this is the best night of his life. Because Betty Cooper is holding his hand, he keeps a hand around her shoulder as they walk around talking to people. She kisses his cheek whenever she feels like it and she holds him against her.

The first time he kisses her is the the most cliched thing he’s ever done in his life. They’re dancing, his hands on her hips, her hand around his neck. She has the most beautiful smile on her lips. ‘Work Song’ by Hozier, he later learns, is playing in the background and it’s the happiest he’s ever felt.

“I really like you, Betty.” He murmurs in her ear, his cheek against the side of her head.

She leans back to look at him. “I’ve liked you since we were twelve.”

He laughs. “That’s oddly specific.”

“It was when you put your beanie on me when I was sad because my mom yelled at me.” Her hand reaches up to run a finger across the fabric on his head.

“When you kicked Reggie in second grade because he pushed me.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “My little seven year old self was ruined after that.”

There’s a beat and she’s just looking at him and he wants her to look at him like that forever. He wants to freeze this moment forever. As her hand moves to caress his face, he almost melts into it. Hand warm against his cheek, it’s like every dream come true. They both lean in, lips brushing tentatively at first, as he draws her nearer, arms wrapping around her. Her lips taste like strawberry and they’re soft against his. And he’s falling in love with her. He wonders when he’ll stop falling.

When they pull back because their lungs demand it, she laughs, forehead against his.

She still laughs the same way, when he kisses her again, with the same song playing, on their wedding day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think xx


	11. FBI FBI

“Juggie, she’s not stopping.” Betty tries to keep her own tears at bay as their little girl wails in her arms.

“Want me to take over?” He questions immediately. She nods her head and he takes the little bundle in his arms. To think that only two months ago she’d been inside Betty and now she’s out here, in the world, screaming and being the most captivating creature he’d ever come across felt insane. “Hey, there, Princess, what’s wrong?” He murmurs softly, as Betty retrieves the fallen stuffed animal that FP had gotten her when she was born. A little sheepdog affectionately named Hot Dog II. Mia loved it, if it was any indication how tight she gripped it every day.

“It’s Hot Dog, look, baby!” It seems to capture her attention for a second but the minute she takes it from Betty, the wails come back. “What do you want, Mia Jones?”

“She’s not cooperating, Agent Cooper.” Jughead smirks and Betty glares at him.

“Mia, baby, please just stop crying. Mommy and daddy are very tired and we’re running out of options here.” She sighs, talking to the baby, leaning against her husband.

“Yeah, listen to your mom, Princess, or she’ll go all FBI on you.” He jokes, pressing a kiss to her head.

The baby stops crying all together. Betty’s eyes widen. “Jug, what did you do?” She lets out a wail and they both wince. “Do whatever you did again!”

“I don’t know what I did. I just said you’d go FBI-“ he looks down to her attentive little face, green eyes looking up at him. “FBI? Is that it?” He laughs. “FBI?” Their angel lets out a coo, a smile on her face. “FBI. You like that, huh?” Mis grabs onto his face with both her hands, giggling. “Your mom works there. At the FBI. That’s right, Princess.”

“Well, great, your uncle Charles is going to love this.” Betty groans as Jughead grins at her. “A bad omen, Jug. This is a bad omen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another little Drabble, tell me what you think xx


	12. Sunshine

When Jughead was younger, he liked the way the sun shined through the trailer window in the early hours of the day, in the bedroom. He liked the lazy haze of a Saturday morning in bed before having to face whatever storm awaited him outside the door. Wether it was his dad, passed out on the couch or when he was younger, his parents fighting, his sister crying. But the peace of those minutes was enough. The minutes before the beginning of a new day. When he could actually stop. It wasn’t nighttime where his sister had nightmares or when his dad could stumble into the trailer, wasted. 

Jughead liked mornings. Those moments alone were enough. 

It became something else when he spends them with her. The first time she sleeps over and he wakes to her breath on his neck, he revels in the sunlight that slips through the blinds and the warmth of her skin on his. 

The sunlight hitting a streak of her blonde hair. When she wakes, lighting up her green eyes that seem to have encapsulated his soul. He loves the sun, because it warms his heart just as much as she does. 

“Morning.” She mumbles. “You’re staring.” She grins. 

“I can’t help it. My girlfriend is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life.” 

She laughs softly as one does on quiet mornings, easy and free, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Cheeseball.” And then she cuddles back against him, sighing softly. “I like waking up to you.” She confesses. 

They’re teenagers, he knows, but in the back of his mind he thinks he wants to wake up to her every day for the rest of his life. 

•

For however much he loves mornings, he discovers that with her, he falls in love with sunsets. It’s the first time they go on a trip to somewhere with a beach. They’d pooled their money together and on the last summer before college, when High School is over, before inevitably they’d be separated by distance, they go away together. 

And he loves sunsets. 

He loves to sit by her side, when the sun starts going down and she’s happy. Sun kissed, green eyes popping out, in silence with him. He savors every moment because he knows that in a few months there will be less of this and more of FaceTime calls and exams and he’ll probably go a little crazy without her anchoring him down. 

At least, when he sees a sunset, he’ll think of her. 

“I’m gonna miss you.” She murmurs, eyes focused ahead at the orange sky. 

“Betts...” He breathes out. 

“I know we agreed not to say anything but I...I love you and I’m going to miss you. We can leave it at that.” He places his fingers on her chin so he can turn her head to face him. 

“I love you more than anything in the world. We’re going to get through this. Together, okay? Partners in life, remember?” His voice is gentle, the waves hit the shore and he knows she loves him just as much as he loves her. She nods, despite the tears and he places a sweet kiss to her lips. “I actually have something for you. I was planning on giving it to you at the end of the trip but I think how’s the time.” He reaches for his backpack, she watches him curiously as a nervous bout curses through him. When he turns to face her again, there’s a crown shaped ring in his hand. “This is a promise ring. I bought when I went to Stonewall.” 

“Oh, Jug.” She gasps softly. 

“I want you to wear it and whenever you miss me, I want you to look at it. A little piece of me to carry with you. A promise that no matter what, I’ll always come back to you.” He takes her hand and places the ring on her ring finger. “It’s not too pretentious that it’s a crown, right?” He laughs softly. 

She shakes her head. “No. It’s not. It’s you, Juggie.” She smiles, hand caressing his cheek. “It’s perfect. This is perfect.” Leaning closer, she places her lips on his in a slow kiss. “Hey, how about we go back to our room?”

He can only grin, as they quickly pack their things up. 

•

The weather is looking a bit like his mood. It’s cold, windy and dark and he wants spring to come so he can feel a little lighter at least. 

He likes college enough. He writes most of the time and he’s gotten better and the seminars are interesting. He meets people who are actually interested in the same things he is and he has interesting conversations. But the best part of his day is getting to his dorm room so he can talk to her. 

It’s hard. Long distance is hard. Trying to find the time to talk to her when they live in different time zones is insane. And sometimes he’s cranky or she’s cranky and they have stupid fights. Sometimes she doesn’t answer texts and sometimes he can’t take her call. And it sucks. He wishes he could put it more eloquently but it just sucks. It’s been two years of this and although he takes every moment he can get to be with her, it still breaks his heart every time they have to go. Only one year more and they can figure out what to do. The decision had been basically made. They’d have to be together again because he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take being apart from her for most of the year. 

“Jug?” 

Her voice is small on the other side of the line. But he notices the slight waver in it. His heart clenches. 

“Hi, Betts.” He murmurs, leaning back against the headboard of his bed. 

“Juggie, I’m so sorry.” 

His heart drops. “What happened?” 

“I can’t come down next weekend.” She’s crying, he can tell. It makes everything worse. “I have work. My boss just put me on the weekend shifts when I asked him not to and I’ve got an assignment due that Monday-“ 

“It’s our anniversary, Betty.” He really doesn’t mean to make her feel even worse but he’s feeling like absolute crap. 

“I know. I know that.” She sobs through the phone. “Shit, Jug. You have no idea how terrible I feel but I...” 

He sighs. “It’s okay.” He mumbles. “It’s okay. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

When he looks towards the window, there’s a storm outside. 

•

Their first apartment in New York City has nice light. It’s the first thing that actually makes them want to buy it. The light. When they check out other places, Betty always says that there aren’t enough windows. The apartment they buy with Jughead’s advance from his book has. 

He goes back to having mornings with her and the notion that it’s their home makes it all even sweeter. It wasn’t as though this was the first time they lived together, they’d pretty much lived together most of their senior year but this is theirs, not their parents. On weekends, there’s no obligation for breakfast at ten, like Alice preferred. On weekends, they laze around until they decide they’re hungry for food and not each other. Sometimes that only happens at lunch. And Jughead loves everything about it. 

On a spring morning, after a year of living in their apartment, he gets the new ring out of his sock drawer and makes her breakfast while she sleeps, his heart beating a little too hard in his chest. 

“Hey, you.” Her voice awakens him from practicing his speech in her head, admiring the ring he’s holding between his fingers. He gets startled and drops the ring in the sink. 

“No! Shit! No, no!” He watches it goes down the drain, burning through what he believes is every curse in the book. “Oh my god!” 

“What happened?” She questions, worried, running into the kitchen as he stares down the sink. 

“The- oh fuck! Oh my god!” 

“Juggie, Jug, what’s going on?” She takes his face in her hands. “Jug!” 

He feels defeated. Why the hell would he hold an engagement ring above a sink? Of course this would happen to him when he’s trying to propose to the girl he loves. Of course. 

“Fuck me, Betts!” He groans. 

“What? You’re scaring me?” 

“The ring.” 

Her brows furrow. “The what?” 

Well fuck it, now you’ve said it.  “Betty, I...this is so wrong. I wanted to do this right, I swear, okay? But you scared me and I dropped it and now it’s all wrong.” He sighs. 

“Dropped what?” She questions. 

“The ring.” He breathes out, finally looking into her eyes. “I was proposing and I dropped the ring in the sink.” He confesses. 

Her widen widen for a second and then she smiles. “You’re not proposing anymore?” 

“Well, I don’t exactly have a ring.” He sighs. 

“Do you see me concerned?” She grins and then she slips the silver crown ring out of her finger where it had been for four years and hands it to him. “Do it.” 

He laughs. Of course. 

Betty Cooper. 

The sunlight in the kitchen looks nice when she says yes. 

But when they get married, the next year, he’ll say the sunlight looks magical as he kisses his wife for the first time. The pictures match his description. 

•

Their daughter likes the winter and hates summer. The heat makes her get cranky and her eyes squint in the sunlight and she’s not really up for beach trips, getting bored easily. She likes the winter because that’s when Santa comes and her birthday. It’s when she gets to go outside in the snow, building snowmen with her cousins in Riverdale, where they usually spend the holidays. 

Either way, despite his obvious preference for sunny days, he can agree that his daughter makes even the rainiest days feel like springtime. 

It’s a cold day outside, the three of them plus the dog are cuddled up on the couch watching a Disney movie. Mia has a tendency to comment on every single thing she finds interesting, offering commentary Jughead wouldn’t change for the world. 

Betty’s cuddled up on one side, Mia’s on the other and he’s sandwiched between the two loves of his life without a care in the world. When Mia’s commentary starts dying out and her body feels heavier, he can tells she’s fallen asleep. 

“She’s out.” Betty murmurs, a hand on her daughter’s back. “She never gets to the end of this movie.” She chuckles. 

“She takes after you. Power naps are her thing.” Jughead jokes. “Hey, it’s snowing.” 

Betty turns to look towards the window and smiles. “Mia’s right. Winter is nice.” 

He’ll still stick to his guns on that front. He likes both their eyes better in the sunlight. At least, their second daughter is born in the spring and she agrees with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think!


	13. Mind Reader/Undercover Lover/ True Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set in the universe of ten other spy Drabble I wrote here: Distraction/Dance with me/Slip up ...Chapter 5

Her silhouette against the sunset light will always take his breath away, even with a bullet lodged in his stomach. Even as he starts to feel groggy, wanting to fall asleep as her figure comes into view.

“Oh god!” She kneels beside him, already tending to the wound. 

“No vital organs damaged.” He chokes out. 

“You can’t know that.” She shakes her head. “Why did you have to come here?” 

“You.” 

She breathes out slowly, applying pressure to the wound, as he winces. “You know they can’t know about us, you know that right? It’ll be the end for us. They’ll kill us both.” 

“Yet, you’re the one chasing a man who kidnapped me last month to the ends of the earth because he broke my fingers.” 

“Well, he’s the one who has none now.”

He tries to laugh but it sounds painful. “That’s my girl.” 

“Shh save your strength, baby, stay awake ok? I’m going to get you out of here and we’re gonna fix you.” She’s crying, sobbing as he starts getting weaker. “Come on, Jug, you can’t ask me to marry you and just die.” 

“I’m not gonna. I promise.”

She does manage to get help. Toni finds time to remotely and secretly scour Berlin for a trustworthy doctor, someone who wasn’t within the agency. Jughead’s in a coma for two days. The worst 48 hours of her life. They can’t keep doing this, she knows. 

“It’s like I can read your mind.” He groans, adjusting himself on the bed. “I’m not leaving you. I made that mistake before. Whatever happens, we have to stay together. I won’t let you push me away.” 

“You almost died.” 

“It’s in my line of work.” 

“Someday they’ll be able to tell we’re lying. That the one time thing they discovered wasn’t just the one. That this is...real. That we didn’t pretend to be together for a fucking Arab prince. That we were there together. I saw the file on Macoy’s desk. On me. On Dubai. And quite possibly on us.” He can feel the anxiety radiating off of her. 

“We’re spies, Betty, all we do is lie. We can keep going. You’re a masterful liar and so am I. We’ve been trained to lie and gamble with life and those around us.” He argues and she hides her face in her hands.

“I want to be your wife. I want to end this.” 

He urges her to sit beside him on the bed. “I love you. And we’re gonna fix this.” 


	14. Feral/Forbidden Touch/Hypnotize

At the top of the hill, hidden between trees and guarded by high fences, gates locked for a good hundreds of years, stood Thornhill Manor, in its glory of past lives, of old haunts, of stories that made your breath hitch, shivers run across your skin and a hallow feeling in your chest. It is said to have burned itself down from the inside and that it built itself back up again. 

Many believe Thornhill has a soul within. That it breathes, that it thinks. That its walls have claws sharp enough to trap you, that its rooms could swallow you whole if you stayed for too long. 

There had once been a family there. A beautiful family. Children once ran down its stairs. Men had fawned over the paintings on the walls. Women had sat in its chairs and tended to the flowers that were now dead in the garden. 

There had once been a girl. 

And the girl was forever trapped within its gates. 

‘Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water,

Jack fell down and broke his crown,

And Jill came tumbling after.’

The dreams start when he comes into town and his car breaks down in front of the Thornhill gates. He feels something. He can never describe it, but it’s there, lingering, his eyes trained on the tall gates, the winds picking up around him. 

Her voice is haunting when she speaks to him, the dreams that aren’t quite nightmares fighting its way to the front of his mind every day. He sketches every image he remembers the minute he wakes. Her face. Green eyes that sometimes turn pitch black. A voice that pleads for salvation. The feeling of her fingers around his wrist pulling him in. 

He stands in front of the gates again. The secrets it held that he could no longer stay away from. 

“What are you doing there, boy?!” A voice startles him, he turns to the woman standing in the middle of the road. It chills him to the core. Blue eyes almost sparkling. “You don’t want the ghosts that live in there. They’ll haunt you forever.” He furrows his brows, as the woman lean in and even as they’re a few feet away, it feels as though she’s whispering in his ear. “Green eyes, boy. Follow them if you feel you’re falling.” 

He turns for a second towards the Manor and the woman is gone. 

If I don’t go inside, I’ll never know and I’ll wonder forever.

It feels humid inside the house. Leaves blow around him as he opens the large wooden door. And the feeling he’s felt since he’s seen it returns. 

He climbs up the stairs, wood creaking beneath him, holding his breath. It feels like there is an energy around him, as if it’s pulling him in and he’s not strong enough to pull back. 

A flash of red appears out of the corner of his eye, disappearing into the hallway and into a room. He jumps back but continues his journey up. 

“Don’t!” The voice of his dreams yells. Stopping him in his tracks. He turns around to face the voice and there she is. The white dress. The green eyes. The blonde hair. “You must leave.” 

“You.” He breathes out, not quite believing his eyes. “Are you real?” 

“You’ll wish I wasn’t.” She hisses. “Leave this house. Lock the door and don’t come back.” 

“I can’t. I need to know. I need answers.” 

“Many have come for answers and have only been swallowed whole.” 

“What are You?” 

It feels as though she floats when she moves past him. “I’m the keeper. The bridge between the house and your world.” She explains. “Whatever you do, if you do choose to go on there is nothing I can do to stop you.” 

“Why not?” 

She turns to face him again. “I cannot he touched. If you were to touch me, you’d be trapped forever, just as I am.”

“Trapped?” 

“Whatever you do, whatever or whoever you see, you do not look into their eyes. You look at me.” 

“What happens if I do?” 

“They’ll steal your soul and you’ll become one of them. Spirits of darkness.” He’s sure he’s dreaming, he’s sure he’s dreaming because if it is reality then all his nightmares were real and spirits are real. 

“Did you call to me? In my dreams?” 

“My soul isn’t mine. And it longs for things I can’t control.” She stops and he stops with her. “Look at me.” She whispers, eyes wide and she looks so perfect, he wonders how anyone could look away. But he feels the urge to look at the figures that gather around him. Screaming, feral like screams that he’s sure will haunt him forever. “It’s just me. There is no one here. It’s just me.” 

“Just you.” He whispers. 

After a month of going to the house every day to try to understand it, to try and find a way to help her out of the endless maze that was her life, he falls in love with her. He feels it slowly, the smile that appears when she speaks of her past, of her life. He feels it when she tells him it’s just her and that there is no one else. He feels it when her soul reaches out to him every night and pulls him to her, arms wrapping around him, calling for him to stay and never leave. He feels himself hypnotized by the green in her eyes, the color that saves him every night when spirits cling to him. 

“I love you, Elizabeth.”

She cries, shaking her head. He wants to hold her. He wants to touch her. He wants to kiss her but if he does, he’ll never leave. He’ll never live again. He’ll only hold her in his dreams. 

“You cannot love me.” 

“I can and I do. I love you. I’m in love with you.” He argues. “You called out to me without even knowing. Maybe this is meant to be. You and me.” 

“It’s a curse, Jughead. This love of ours will always be a curse because I cannot be with you.” 

“Of ours.” He muses. “Do you love me?” 

“Of course I love you. I’ve loved you forever. In any realm, dream or not.” She confesses. 

“I will get you out of here. I will find a way to save you. I promise I’ll kiss you. I’ll hold you as tight as I can and never let go.” 

And that’s how he became trapped. How the house swallowed him whole. In love with a girl that isn’t a girl anymore. 

And Thornhill Manor stood tall, still in its unholy nature, with its creatures and its teeth sharp as knives. And the boy, trapped within its walls in an illusion of what could never be. 


End file.
